


One Week In The Life

by EdmondJames_Dantes



Category: NCIS
Genre: Alternate Universe - Robots & Androids, Differently Abled Characters, Everyone Thinks They're Together, Friendship, Getting Together, Kind of case fic but kind of not, M/M, Robot/Human Relationships, Team as Family, Teamwork
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-02-23
Updated: 2017-02-23
Packaged: 2018-09-26 11:30:44
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,324
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/9894530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EdmondJames_Dantes/pseuds/EdmondJames_Dantes
Summary: Gibbs is a robot, but that doesn't actually change much.





	

Gibbs and Ellie were eating lunch in the cafeteria on Monday; their little ritual. Not because Gibbs liked the cafeteria, he didn't - it's always got too many people in it - but because Ellie did like it. Something about the smell of all its freshly baked food. It's not an exception that Gibbs would have made before Ziva left, but Ziva did leave, making more wounds on her way out than she did on her way in - which said a lot. Though Gibbs wasn't willing to blame her for it. _Shit happens._

 

But Ellie was like a breath of fresh air in the aftermath of a grenade. Gibbs wanted to keep her on the team, and he was willing to bend and compromise a little, and eat lunch in the cafeteria every Monday, and dig up his patience from where he'd buried it with Kelly - if that was what it would take to keep Ellie happy. Ellie Bishop was exactly what they all needed, Gibbs, and Tim, and Tony, too. And so, Gibbs looked away with a smile when Tony would ply her with little cupcakes and thoughtful gifts, and when Tim would sneak her sweets when Ducky wasn't around to complain and extra pens because she was always losing hers, and when one of his boys would loudly proclaim that one of her mistakes was one of theirs. He didn't let them get away with that last one too often, because she wouldn't learn if she never took the consequences for her actions, after all. But it made him happy, how cohesive and cooperative and sweet their little makeshift family was now.

 

However, Ellie, while she was a good person, with a boatload of agent potential, she had a great deal to learn about being an investigator, because she walked around thinking that Gibbs and Tony and Tim had _always_ been _this_ _good_ to people. It amused Gibbs, as she happily chattered away to him about her brother's new puppy over their chicken sandwiches, that she had no idea that she had made all three of them better men - kinder, more caring men with more empathy and understanding for those around them - simply by walking into their lives and asking to share it with them.

 

So, when Special Agent Viktor Jefferson plonked his tray down beside Gibbs, sitting down beside him too, and cut off Ellie's happy chatter with a, "Hey Jethro," it kind of totally pissed off Gibbs. Especially since he couldn't recall granting Jefferson permission to call him _Jethro._ Gibbs took a new and instant dislike to the man, right then and there. _I'm not gonna like anything that comes out of his pie hole._ Some people just weren't deserving of his newfound empathy, he decided. So, Gibbs ignored him.

 

"What were you saying, kid?" he asked Ellie. She hesitated, looking uncomfortably at Jefferson. He was interrupting their one on one time. The newest, and youngest, kid on the block, she was still learning that she could come to Gibbs at any time, just to talk, or ask advice, or just for the company. And so, to give her that same security that his other teammates and friends already had, Monday lunches remained Ellie and Gibbs time. "Ellie," Gibbs got her attention. He smiled encouragingly, "What were you saying?"

 

"Oh come on, Jethro, you really want to hear more about her brother's new puppy?" Jefferson smirked, staring at him, and leaning against the table.

 

Ellie kept quiet, her eyes downcast.

 

Gibbs looked to her and said, "I like puppies." Then he turned to look at Viktor Jefferson. "What the fuck do you want, Agent Jefferson?" He didn't yell, or even raise his voice, but out of his peripheral vision he could see other NCIS agents and employees become still and look over. People had a tendency to listen when he spoke, or maybe it was just the swearing or tone of his voice, but the cafeteria suddenly became not as noisy as it had been.

 

Jefferson shrugged carelessly, with a shark-like grin. "Just wondering what I'd have to do to take you home for a quick fuck, Jethro."

 

Ellie sucked in a sharp breath, staring wide-eyed.

 

Gibbs glared at Jefferson. "I'm not a fuckbot. You want sex, go find someone else."

 

Jefferson laughed. "Oh yeah, I know you're not just some fuckbot, Jethro. But nonetheless, I heard you're pretty quick to give it up. Rumour has it that DiNozzo likes sticking his output in your input."

 

Gibbs grinned meanly, all teeth. "Rumour has it that you like sticking your cock in donkeys and pigs, but you don't see me telling other people your secrets." Ellie broke into laughter, both hands clasping across her mouth in a futile effort to stop. Gibbs smirked.

 

Jefferson scowled. "Shut up, you bi-"

 

Gibbs grabbed his glass of orange juice and dumped it over Jefferson's head.

 

Silence reigned in the cafeteria.

 

"Oh my god!" squeaked Ellie, bursting into fresh giggles of laughter.

 

Jefferson slowly started turning to Gibbs, sheer murder in his eyes. He pulled his fist back and slammed it into Gibbs's face, colliding straight with his nose.

 

"Wow," said Gibbs, blinking a bit after the impact. It hadn't moved him even a millimetre, not with his metal muscles and metal bones. There was no cartilage in his nose, only unforgiving metal under thin layers of skin and flesh. "I didn't know people came in your level of stupid."

 

Jefferson gasped, and screamed. He moved his hand - several bones broken now, he hadn't pulled his punch a bit - and cradled it to his chest. He groaned deeply, and slid off his seat. He hit the ground with a whimper, and curled up.

 

Of course, with Gibbs's luck, this was exactly the moment when the director walked in.  Vance stopped dead, staring at the trained federal agent curled up whimpering on the floor before him, before slowly raising and fixing his gaze on Gibbs.

 

"I swear, this is not what it looks like, Leon," protested Gibbs at the glint in Leon's eyes. "I didn't so much as lay a finger on him!" Across the table from him, Ellie howled with laughter, burying her head in her arms. Gibbs bit his lip, then hissed, "Not helping my case, Ellie."

 

"What the hell is going on in here, Gibbs?" said Leon, crossing his arms over his chest. Jefferson groaned and rolled over and shuffled away from Gibbs, towards the relative safety of the director.

 

Gibbs opened his mouth to explain, but then, over Leon's shoulder, Tony came striding in, tall, sleek, and hot as hell. Tony, who never let somebody in his way, or a tense atmosphere, knock him off his stride. Tony, who Viktor Jefferson thought was fucking Gibbs. Tony, who someone must have called in order for him to be here. Gibbs closed his mouth and just waited for the shit to hit the fan.

 

Sure enough, Tony brushed past Vance, stepped around Jefferson, and settled down next to Gibbs, sitting where Jefferson had previously sat. "What are you doing on the floor, Viktor? Get up, you're making the place look untidy." Tony gave a small grin to Ellie, and stole her red apple. She let him without complaint, grinning wildly back at him.

 

Gibbs watched warily as Jefferson lumbered to his feet. Beside Gibbs, Tony turned around, back to the table edge, sprawling out like an entitled prince.

 

"Agent Jefferson-" interjected Vance, clearly able to see that the situation was about to escalate. He might not like DiNozzo, but the man was one of his agents and Leon could usually recognise a bomb about to explode when he saw one.

 

Jefferson ignored the director. "How dare you, DiNozzo?"

 

Tony bit into his apple, chewing obnoxiously and talking with his mouth full, "How dare I what, _Viktor?_ "

 

 _"Agent Jefferson!"_  

 

Jefferson said nothing, scowling and glancing at Vance out of the corner of his eye.

 

Tony swallowed his piece of apple. "Viktor, I'm sorry but you smell. What are you covered in? Have you peed yourself?"

 

Gibbs face-palmed, and then, at Jefferson's insensate roar, he calmly stood and stepped sideways two paces to stand in front of Tony, arms spread wide. Half a second later, Jefferson barrelled into him, intending to hit Tony but his shoulder slammed into Gibbs's guts. Or where Gibbs would have had guts, if he weren't an AI. Instead, Jefferson slammed shoulder-first, full-force and with a shit-ton of momentum, into a dense pack of metal muscles and internal armour designed to withstand a missile at point blank range.

 

Gibbs pointed a finger at Leon, who was staring incredulously at Jefferson. "Hey! Leon, look, you can see that I'm not hurting him. He's hurting himself on me. And I refuse to take the blame for it."

 

Jefferson crumpled to the ground in front of him, screaming once more. From the nasty _snap_ that had echoed, Gibbs was pretty sure that the human had a dislocated shoulder. Behind him, Tony spoke up, "Jesus Christ, what is his problem?"

 

Gibbs shrugged, looking over his shoulder to see Tony's reaction. "He wanted to fuck, I turned him down." Tony's mouth fell open.

 

"Gibbs, take your boyfriend and get out of my sight."

 

Gibbs's head snapped around so fast to stare in disgust at Leon that he would've been worried about whiplash if he was human. "Viktor Jefferson is _not_ my boyfriend! I would literally rather fuck a wall socket than put my dick anywhere near him!"

 

Leon rolled his eyes at Gibbs's mistake, but it was Jefferson who answered, furiously and painfully huffing out, "You're not even a man, you're a marine bot! Nothing to put anywhere, nothing to get up! Built to take it, not give it!"

 

Gibbs stared down at Viktor Jefferson. Gibbs could hear his own heartbeat thrumming like a drum, so loud he was surprised no one else could hear it in the dead quiet that fell over the cafeteria.

 

_I should kill him, it'd be worth being terminated._

 

Then Tony said, amused and derisive, "Dick or no dick, Gibbs is more of a man than you."

 

Gibbs felt calm descend over him like a cool shower on a hot day. He crouched down and with one finger to his chin, forced Jefferson to meet his eyes. "First, DiNozzo is totally fucking right. Second, I was a husband bot _before_ I became a marine bot, so actually I totally have a dick, and I can fucking get it up. Not that it's any of your business. But third and last of all, I wouldn't take your dick if it was the last one left on earth. I'd rather go fuck myself on a tree branch, you slimy, creepy, pile of stinking dog-shit."

 

And that was Monday. Monday sucked.

 

 

 

Tuesday was only slightly better.

 

 _Some days_ _it really is better to be a machine_ , mused Gibbs as he suffered a crowbar to the face. As a former marine bot become NCIS agent, he was a lot tougher than civilian bots or his human team-mates. His military-grade metal alloy skeleton and internal armour plating counted for a lot. Still, even if the physical sensation of pain was dim, he was going to need aid for his torn skin.

 

Gibbs reached out with one hand and easily caught the crowbar on the next incoming strike. "I think once was enough, don't you, Lieutenant?" He looked around the crowbar, and quirked an eyebrow. Synthetic red blood and grey oil dripped onto his left eye. _God damn it._ The little shit must have gotten him right between his eye and eyebrow in one of the few vulnerable millimetres on his entire body. His actual eye would have taken the hit far better.

 

Billy Anderson, Navy Lieutenant, white male, late forties, a history of anger management problems, was their key suspect in their current case, which centred on the murder of his wife, Kylie Anderson, Navy Lieutenant.

 

"Shit. You're a cop bot!" yelped Anderson, letting go of his crowbar, scrambling out of the trailer, and fleeing disgracefully.

 

Gibbs didn't bother pursuing him, his advanced hearing already alerting him to his team-mates' positions. Sure enough, as soon as Anderson tried to exit the garage, Tony and Tim _and_ Ellie tackled their perp to the ground. Tony slammed into Anderson from the left, shouldering him in the gut, with Tim and Ellie launching in from the right, with Tim wrapping both his long arms around Anderson's waist, and Ellie diving to tightly latch onto the man's legs.

 

Gibbs smirked, it was always good to see his team kick ass.

 

They all fell to the ground, a sprawling puppy pile with a snake in the middle, but they secured and cuffed him quickly.

 

As Ellie read Anderson his Miranda rights, Tony looked up. "Getting slow in your old age, boss?" His voice was bright and teasing, but Tony's eyes were sharp, taking in the damage to Gibbs's face, his disapproval showing in a quick micro-expression.

 

Gibbs was his boss, the only Artificial Intelligence allowed to lead a team in the agency, but somehow, these days, in his off duty hours, he found himself answering to Tony. "Quit messing around, DiNozzo." He liked it, liked that Tony cared enough to ask, and command, that Gibbs take care of himself. But it still went against his primary orders for him to obey a subordinate agent.

 

 

 

"What happened to your face?" said Vance, glancing up from his paperwork and frowning when he saw Gibbs.

 

 _Guess he's still not over Monday_. "A crowbar," he said succinctly. He could see the mental effort that it took Leon to not roll his eyes.

 

"Well, go get it fixed. I don't need you dripping blood and fuel all over the carpet."

 

"Yes, because I like leaking my bodily fluids all over the Navy Yard. Give me a break, Leon, I didn't ask to get smacked in the face with a crowbar." Gibbs scowled at the director. He wished that NCIS HQ kept the tools on hand to repair him, but bots were the exception at NCIS, not the norm. At the very least he wished that he had some decent coffee in hand, because  everything was better with coffee, but if he showed up all bloody and greased up at Elaine's diner again, she'd do nothing but coddle him like he was her ten year old son and complain that his boyfriend wasn't looking after him well enough. Gibbs didn't even have a boyfriend. Regardless of what Elaine had to say about Tony.

 

"I'm surprised you didn't stop it," said Leon, putting down his pen and leaning back in his chair.

 

"Well I might have heat vision and night vision, but I don't have x-ray vision!" snapped Gibbs, abruptly furious. Leon wouldn't have ever said that to another - _human_ \- agent that had been slapped in the face with a metal pole. As usual, Gibbs was held to a higher standard - yet one that didn't include any human rights or considerations. Only paltry AI rights, which only barely gave him downtime, home ownership, and a small income, but not much else, certainly not _human consideration_. "There's no way I could have seen the crowbar coming!"

 

Leon stilled, surveying him. "I apologise, Gibbs. If you would please share the full story?"

 

Gibbs eyed him, unhappy, then stiffly reported, "Lieutenant Anderson was hiding under a tarp in a trailer in his garage. I removed the tarp. He got my face with a crowbar. I stopped it on his next swing. He tried to run for it. My team apprehended him as he tried to leave the garage."

 

"It will never cease to amaze me how stupid some criminals are." Vance sighed. "I trust he's in lock-up or interrogation now?"

 

Gibbs nodded. "McGee and Bishop are interrogating him now." _Ellie needs the practice at interrogation and Tim needs to start stepping up more if he ever wants a promotion._

 

Leon drummed his fingers along his desk. "Good, good. Have DiNozzo take you over to the Lab at Hoover Building to get your face repaired," he said, already returning his attention to his papers.

 

"What? I can't go over to the FBI now without somebody holding my hand?" bit out Gibbs, insulted, incredulous, and outraged all over again.

 

Leon didn't even bother looking up, waving a hand at the door. "DiNozzo's less likely to go feral from over-protectiveness if he gets to see you fixed up in person. Besides, the man would kill to hold your hand."

 

Gibbs didn't dignify that with an answer, spinning around and stalking to the door.

 

"And Gibbs?" He waited with his back turned away, not willing to grant Leon another face to face conversation after his last absurd comment. "I'll see about fitting into your team's budget for next month, an upgrade for your optics that includes x-ray vision."

 

 

 

Gibbs was sitting on one of the gurneys in the FBI robotics laboratory, swinging his legs back and forth, with a feebie medbot carefully soldering shut the little grazes in the soft metal between his eye and eyebrow, to stop the leaking oil, when Tobias Fornell sauntered in.

 

"Well, well, well. What have we here? The little bot that could? You're looking a little banged up there, someone get the better of you?" Tobias came to a standstill in front of Gibbs, hands in his pockets, a warm grin on his face.

 

Gibbs held his head still, letting the medbot do its work. "I could snap your neck with one hand, Tobias, banged up or not."

 

Tobias chuckled. "I don't doubt it, Jethro." He nodded to Gibbs's face. "I heard what happened, you gonna live?"

 

Gibbs smiled slightly. "Didn't know you cared, Tobias."

 

"Oh, I don't," assured Tobias facetiously. "But I'd hate to see DiNozzo all torn up and tear the world in half, in an epic quest of revenge motivated by his deep abiding love for you. I have to live on this world too, you know." He winked at Gibbs.

 

"Go fuck yourself, Fornell," called Tony from where he was just beginning to lean shoulder-up against the door.

 

Gibbs smirked, but inwardly he was startled, and confused. _I thought that I'd left you back at HQ, DiNozzo._

 

"See what I mean, your boy's crazy-"

 

Tony snorted, amusement pulling at his lips. "At least I'm not crazy enough to try and hide case-related information from Gibbs." He raised an eyebrow, with a pointed stare at Fornell.

 

"What's this?" said Gibbs, pushing the medbot out of the way and scowling. "What aren't you telling me, Tobias?" The medbot wheeled around to his other side and tried reaching him that way. Disgruntled, Gibbs reluctantly let it poke at him. It _was_ trying to help him, after all.

 

"I was getting to it!" protested Tobias, his hands coming up to gesture his innocence.

 

"There's another body," cut in Tony, rolling his eyes at Fornell. "Found in another state, Virginia. Same manner of death as Lieutenant Kylie Anderson." She'd been tortured, whip marks on her back, and then strangled to death.

 

"You spoil all my fun, DiNozzo." But Tobias still looked far too cheerful for a two dead bodies.

 

"A second victim, in a second state. Potentially a serial killer then." Realization struck Gibbs, and he growled at Tobias, "You think that gives you jurisdiction."

 

Tobias shrugged. "Serial killers are FBI jurisdiction. And, this does look like the work of a serial killer."

 

"Navy officers are NCIS jurisdiction!" countered Gibbs.

 

"So, our directors will suggest we split it, but come on, Gibbs! You shot me in the ass, you owe me one!" Tobias pressed his hands together in a mock prayer.

 

Gibbs grinned, and shook his head, briefly dislodging the medbot again. "I saved your life, Tobias. You can't keep holding that against me."

 

Tony chuckled, a little mean, but lightly amused. "It's not like you didn't have it coming, Fornell. You're a pain in the ass, and this case is ours."

 

Tobias sneered at Tony, a nerve hit, and he lashed out, "You would know all about pain in the ass, DiNutso." Tobias darted a sideways glance at Gibbs, then smirked back at Tony.

 

Tony's face turned to stone, impenetrable. Smooth as marble, and just as still. Gibbs stared at him, fascinated, fairly certain that he could cut steel on those cheekbones. And then Tobias's taunt and little look registered fully in his mind, the sexual implication and insult became clear to him. Gibbs snarled, and jack-knifed to his feet, one arm pushing the medbot away. "Back the fuck off, Tobias!"

 

Tobias instantly raised his hands, his expression already regretful, but Gibbs didn't care. "No, don't apologise, I don't wanna hear it. That was crass and rude and out of line. Just get out, Tobias."

 

Fornell nodded, wincing, and walked to the door. He paused briefly as he passed Tony, murmuring an apology, but Tony's face didn't change, and Tobias left.

 

The silence he left behind rang loud and damning in Gibbs's ears.

 

"Special Agent Gibbs," said the medbot politely, its voice high-pitched like a child's, and inquiring, "Would you please sit again on the gurney so I may finish applying medical aid to your injury?"

 

"Yeah, yeah," muttered Gibbs, hoisting himself back onto his gurney. The medbot wheeled in close, and resumed its repair of him; starting to use needle and some kind of thread to stitch back together his skin and flesh. Gibbs was metal hardware on the inside, sticky and lubricated with oil, and threaded together with wires, and he needed the perfectionist care of a medbot for any damage to his metal innards. But outside his metal alloy muscles was a thin layer of living synthetic flesh, blood, and skin  - which would heal the _natural_ way. He was made to look, and feel, like a real human. Presumably, for him to interact more easily with real human beings. But, more likely he knew, so that they could more easily interact with him.

 

Gibbs sighed. "I wish everyone would stop talking as if you and I are together. They should mind their own business." _First Tobias says that you love me, then he implies that you getting fucked by me would be a bad thing - isn't that a bit of a paradox?_

 

Tony laughed darkly.

 

Gibbs looked away, hurt a little more than he was willing to admit by Tony's flippancy. Or maybe he was hurt that he'd leapt to defend DiNozzo, and the human didn't even seem to think it noteworthy. Hell, maybe he was just hurt because Tony _had_ been insulted by Tobias's remark, going all still like that. He bristled at the idea that he wasn't good enough for Tony, but then he forced himself to stop; he was a bot, not a human. The very idea of DiNozzo falling for him was a joke. Gibbs didn't even have the right to be offended by Tony being offended.

 

"Look, Gibbs," Tony blew out a long breath, pushing off the doorframe. "Vance will fight for us to keep the case. And he'll win, because the only reason the second body was even found was because someone gave an anonymous tip to NCIS."

 

Gibbs let the change of topic pass. The FBI robotics lab wasn't exactly where he wanted to have a heart to heart. "Victim or killer?" he asked, zeroing in on the case. "Has Tim traced it?"

 

Tony shrugged. "You all fixed up? Let's go hunting."

 

 

 

Somehow, Wednesday managed to be worse than Monday and Tuesday combined.

 

Gibbs and Tim burst into the shitty little dungeon where Tony and Ellie were being held captive beneath a pretty suburban house with a really nice rose garden.

 

Gibbs and Tim kept their guns on Eric Lawton as they inched their way further into his underground dungeon. Eric Lawton, accountant, gamer, white male, mid thirties, serial killer of women and men.

 

As soon as the door had been kicked inward, Tony was talking, of course, mocking and dangerous and disdainful as the devil himself, with the purpose of splitting Lawton's attention between him and Ellie, and Gibbs and Tim. "Ah! I told you the cavalry would come, little pig! I told you that you'd wind up in shit creek without a paddle!" Tony grinned wolfishly up at his captor, blood smeared over his teeth and lips, before the smile disappeared, the sick amusement gone, and nothing but fury in its retreat. He growled, "Didn't I warn you that if you laid a hand on us that you'd wind up as someone's breakfast?"

 

Gibbs didn't like the way the gun was shaking in Lawton's hand as he jabbed the barrel of it into Tony's neck. "You do know how I like my bacon, don't you, Tony?" quipped Gibbs. The gun jerked up, pointing straight at him. _Better_.

 

Eric Lawton was a mess. A cold blooded, level headed monster when it was just him against one unarmed individual, but a stuttering pathetic man in the face of Gibbs's and Tim's steady service weapons and slow, slow, relentless steps forward.

 

"It's over, Mr. Lawton," said Tim grimly. "We have evidence of how you tortured and murdered four men and three women."

 

Lawton shook his head furiously. "No. No, no, no. You’re lying. I haven't murdered anyone."

 

"Put the gun down, Lawton, and no-one else will die," said Gibbs, his gaze flicking between Eric Lawton and his captive team-mates. Tony and Ellie were grimy with dirt and blood and near-naked in just their underwear, tied up back to back, and sitting on their butts on the cold concrete at Lawton's feet.

 

Ellie's blonde hair was a mess, but her eyes were furious and focused. Tony's robotic prosthetic right leg had been removed and thrown to the side. Rage sizzled through Gibbs at the sight of Tony's bare thigh - _He hates to be without his leg! -_ and when he saw the whip marks on Tony's shoulder his rage burned all reason from his mind. Gibbs advanced another step forward.

 

"Stop it! Stop moving!" shouted Lawton, eyes wild. His gun wavered, aiming at Tim then back to Gibbs. "I'll shoot you if you come any closer!"

 

"Go ahead," rumbled Gibbs, keeping his tone low and seductive. "Shoot me." _Empty your fucking clip into me for all I care, and then see how you feel after I've had my turn._ There were protocols that NCIS agents had to follow, a rule that states that you aren't allowed to invite harm to yourself. But that rule didn't apply to Artificial Intelligences.

 

Suddenly, Ellie slipped free of her restraints and punched Eric Lawton in the balls.

 

Lawton shouted, high-pitched with pain and shock. He brought the gun down toward Ellie -

 

\- Gibbs shot, the bullet tearing into Lawton's shoulder muscles -

 

\- Tim shot, his bullet shattering Lawton's elbow -

 

\- Tony spun around and surged up on one knee, hands still tied behind his back, bloody teeth bared, and clamped his jaw shut around Lawton's wrist, just above the gun.

 

Eric Lawton _screamed_.

 

And Ellie grabbed him by the balls, through his jeans, and _twisted,_ for good measure.

 

God, but his team was terrifying.

 

With two different death grips on him, and two bullet holes in him, it would now be easy to take down Lawton. The gun fell from his hand, his strength gone beneath Tony's teeth. Ellie let go of his crotch like her hand was on fire and grabbed for the gun. Catching it just before it hit the ground, she pointed it up at Lawton, and scooted away from him on her butt. Waiting until she was out of his arm's reach, she then shakily stood up.

 

"Good work, Bishop," said Gibbs, proud as fuck of his probie. "DiNozzo..." Tony was still biting down hard on Lawton, his fierce green gaze fixed on Lawton's pale face. "Stop biting him, you don't know where he's been."

 

Tony obediently spat out Eric Lawton's wrist, and flung himself away from the man, crashing down onto his arms tied behind his back.

 

Bright red blood started flowing heavily from Lawton's bite wound, and Gibbs was pretty sure Tony had severed an artery. Eric Lawton huffed out a deep breath then toppled over sideways, fainting from blood loss. His life-force was leaking out of him from three different wounds now.

 

"Jesus Christ," murmured Gibbs, impressed despite himself at the strength of the human jaw, and he eyed up Tony's bloody lips and working throat.

 

Tony turned to Gibbs, feral and snarling, _"I want my leg, and I want my knife, and I want out of this hellhole!"_

 

Gibbs used his own knife to slice off the rope restraining Tony, then got him his leg, not saying anything as it was hastily snatched out of his hands. He left Tony alone to re-attach it and searched for Tony's knife instead, while Tim called for paramedics on his comm. link, and Ellie grabbed their clothes and got dressed. She offered Tony back his expensive knit sweater and fancy suit trousers and genuine Italian leather shoes, but he sneered at them. "I'm not wearing those, they're dirty!" said Tony.

 

"So are you," said Ellie, frustratedly, not understanding.

 

"Leave him be, Bishop," ordered Gibbs. Wounded animals liked to lick their wounds in peace, that much he knew. Beyond that, who knew what kind of psychological landscape Tony was in right now? "Bishop, McGee, put some pressure on Lawton's injuries. I want him alive to stand trial." It's what the victims' families would want, anyway. Gibbs still wanted to shoot the bastard some more.

 

Tony pushed himself to his feet, then hesitantly tried to put his full weight on his right leg. He cursed, "God, fuck."

 

Gibbs's attention snapped to the sound. "Tony?"

 

Tony's eyes were shining with tears as he choked out, "He's broken it. My ankle is broken."

 

Gibbs swore.

 

Wednesday was a complete fucking mess.

 

 

 

Thursday wasn't the best, but it wasn't completely terrible.

 

He felt an itch under his skin - like he didn't fit inside his own skin - and some foreign discomfort in the back of his mind, an urge to call Tony every five seconds, and Ellie every five minutes, what with Tony and Ellie both home on medical leave, but he restrained himself. His people were not untrained puppies and with he their hapless owner. Instead, Gibbs worked up the courage to ask a question he'd wanted to ask for awhile. He watched for a moment, standing uneasily, as Tim clattered away on his keyboard, his focus narrowed down to typing up his report.

 

He could call and talk to Tony instead _, wanted_ to talk with Tony instead, but he needed an answer that wasn't impacted by whatever it was that was strung like a live wire between them. And as much as he liked talking with Ellie, as her boss and with the current power differentials at work, he was responsible in a more immediate way for Ellie, such that he couldn't ask this question. She needed to trust him in a way that allowed no room for _his_ existential crises.

 

Ducky would tell a long tale, Gibbs's patience lost long before Duck would reach his point. Jimmy was a possibility for a good answer, probably so were Leon and Tobias _,_ but he didn't feel comfortable baring his soul - _it's a figure of speech, I'm allowed to use it, damn it!_ -  to any of them. Abby... well, Gibbs didn't know if this was a question another Artificial Intelligence could actually answer.

 

But Tim, Timothy McGee had been his co-worker, team-mate, and friend _\- a word I don't apply to many humans -_  for many years now. Gibbs trusted him to give an impartial yet honest answer, and really, that's what it came down to in the end.

 

Gibbs cleared his throat. "Tim, you got a minute?"

 

"Huh? Yeah... Boss?" Tim blinked a few times, reorienting himself outside of his computer. "What do you need?"

 

Gibbs fidgeted, scuffed the tip of his shoe against the floor. "Wanted to ask you something. A personal question."

 

Tim shrugged. "Of course, anything." He leaned back in his chair, waiting patiently.

 

 _This is stupid._ Gibbs rubbed the back of his neck. _No, I need to know._ "How do you know you're human?" he blurted out.

 

Tim stared, momentarily stunned.

 

Gibbs defiantly held his gaze, feeling resentment crinkle his nose just a little and curl his lips into a snarl.

 

But Tim said, mildly, "I think we're going to need some coffee for this conversation, don't you?"

 

They went to Elaine's diner, where Gibbs could buy them some real coffee and not the shit-swill they call coffee in the break room. They sat down at a table by the windows and Elaine came over with smile and checked that they both wanted their usual. She bullied Gibbs into ordering pancakes - _"You don't eat enough, honey." "I'm a machine, I don't need to eat, Elaine!_ " - and after giving their order to the chefs, she brought over two large steaming mugs of coffee. Having them settled, Tim with marshmallows on top of his sweetened coffee, and Gibbs with a couple of the chocolate chip cookies that he liked on the side of his plate, she left them to it.

 

"So, Gibbs," Tim sipped at his coffee, smiling. "Good coffee?"

 

Gibbs smiled tightly back at him. It was heavenly coffee, always was, but there was a reason they were here.

 

Tim tilted his chin, he got it. "You asked a simple question, but it has a complicated answer-"

 

"So un-complicate it." Gibbs was as resolute as he was nervous.

 

"Alright." Tim set his mug down on the table, and he pointed at the mug Gibbs was still holding. "What does that cup of coffee feel like to you?"

 

Gibbs frowned, "What does-"

 

"Answer the question. It's important and relevant, I promise." Tim looked very certain he was right, his jaw was tight in that stubborn set he had, and he crossed his arms over his chest.

 

Gibbs huffed. "The coffee tastes good. The mug feels warm from the heat of it. I like it." Gibbs scowled. He didn't like _feelings_ questions.

 

"But how do you know it's real?" said Tim intently, leaning in and resting his forearms on the table.

 

Gibbs drank another mouthful of hot coffee, trying to give himself another moment to think, and trying not to be flustered by a conversation that had just left his realm of experience. "Because it feels real."

 

"Okay." Tim nodded seriously. "So, if we measure reality by physical sensation, then reality is nothing more or less than electrical impulses in our brains."

 

Gibbs stilled. That sounded like a trick - question or statement. "No. Wait, yes. I don't know. Is it?"

 

Tim smiled gently. "The answer is both, and neither, at the same time. The fact is, the answer has no bearing on reality. Reality could be a lie, but because we believe it, it's true."

 

Gibbs shook his head. The words made sense in the same way that a rollercoaster makes you feel - terrified and free at the same time - but he couldn't see the connection.  "How does that relate to being human?"

 

Tim tapped his fingers along the table, and looked away, pensive. "It's the same uncertainty, and belief. You asked how I know I'm human. Well, I don't. And yet, I just do." He looked across the table, straight at Gibbs. "Leroy Jethro Gibbs, welcome to the greatest secret of the human race: we're all scared that we're not human. Or not human enough."

 

Gibbs swallowed roughly. "That sounds horrible." _I can relate._

 

Tim chuckled. "Isn't it just? But how could we possibly be certain that we're human? When everything we are is a living, breathing, walking contradiction? When we can command reason and logic, yet are ruled by our emotions. When we can see the right choice, right there in front of us, but still make the wrong one. When we all feel absolutely alone in this universe, yet there are over eight and a half billion of us - including all the AIs - on this planet, people standing and sitting right beside each other."

 

Gibbs could barely breathe - despite not actually needing to, breathing was something he enjoyed doing. It made him feel closer to his friends, and he knew that it made them feel more comfortable. And now he couldn't breathe. Something hurt deep inside. "But how do you _just know_ you're human?"

 

"Because what could be more human than to _doubt_ your own humanity?" Tim carefully placed his hand on Gibbs's wrist, squeezed gently then let go, and Gibbs hadn't even realised that he'd lowered his own mug of coffee and his arms to the table. "We just don't know for certain, in the same way we don't know that this isn't some virtual reality instead of whatever true reality may be. But to feel that doubt, to feel so scared to be alone, and to recognise that in another human, to empathize and share that crushing loneliness, to see it reflected back... It doesn't matter whether reality is a lie, when that feeling makes it true."

 

Gibbs stared at Tim, and something _cracked_ beneath _his_ crushing loneliness. "But I'm not like you. How do _I_ know that _I'm_ human?"

 

Tim looked like he wanted to laugh, and like his heart was breaking, and kind of blurry in Gibbs's gaze. "Boss. Gibbs _, you've got tears in your eyes._ That feeling that's making you want to cry, right now? That's what makes _you_ human."

 

Gibbs hastily wiped his eyes. _What use are tear ducts to a bot?_

 

"You all right, Jethro, honey?" Elaine. She was standing next to their table, his plate of pancakes and Tim's dish of bacon and eggs in her hands. She frowned at Tim, before she smiled reassuringly at Gibbs again.

 

"Yeah. Yeah, I'm okay. Tim's a good friend, don't be mad at him," said Gibbs quietly. "He was just explaining something difficult."

 

"Well, alright." Elaine placed their meals on the table. "You maybe want to call your young man? Have him meet you here or pick you up? You look frightfully pale, honey." She rubbed his shoulder.

 

Yeah. Yeah, he did want to call Tony. He never felt this aching loneliness and fear when Tony was with him. But, with Tim still sitting right in front of him? Gibbs avoided looking across the table. "I'm fine, thanks, Elaine. _Wait_. Hey, Elaine? You're a good friend, too."

 

 

 

There were a million instances where Gibbs had _thought_ he was in love with Tony. There was one moment in particular that Gibbs liked to remember. One day, years back, Tony was fast asleep at his chair behind his desk after pulling an all-nighter, solving the cold case before Tim, Ziva, and Gibbs even walked into the bullpen. Without warning, Tony had kicked out and fallen out of his chair, hitting the ground headfirst and hard. Only to surge to his feet, shouting, _"Boss, boss, boss!"_

 

Wide-eyed with panic and fear, and breathing too fast and too shallow, Gibbs had had to pull him close and spend long minutes rubbing his back and stroking his soft hair before he calmed down. But despite it being the middle of the day, lunchtime, with everyone staring in surprise - from Vance leaning on the railing above, and Abby and Jimmy and Ducky all sitting around and quietly chatting  with Tim and Ziva on their lunch break, to Jack Balboa and Cassie Yates walking past - Gibbs couldn't bring himself to care, not about anyone other than Tony.

 

He didn't like to remember how scared Tony had been, how pale and shaken from his nightmare, but he had liked how Tony had thrown his arms around his shoulders, pressed his face into Gibbs's throat and trusted Gibbs to make everything all right again. Gibbs knew he scared a solid number of men, they saw the strength in his hands and thought of all the ways he could use it against them - all the ways that they themselves had misused their own strength.

 

It was usually women and children who didn't fear Gibbs. Or people who were innocent to violence. Or people who, like Tony, had seen or suffered cruel and abusive strength before and could better recognise the difference between someone merely holding power, and someone holding it in a manner that could turn violent against them in an instant. But Gibbs liked that Tony knew the worst of him - because Gibbs _could_ be violent, though god forbid he ever use violence against Tony or one of their friends - yet Tony still trusted him to be his best, still trusted him to be _good._

 

Yeah, there were any number of moments that Gibbs had _thought_ he was in love with Tony, but it wasn't until that Friday that he _knew_ it.

 

Friday was _insane_.

 

Everything just happened so _fast._ One moment, Gibbs and Tony were running - _sprinting_ \- through the halls of an abandoned office building at the edge of town, Tim and Ellie just ahead of them, dashing like demons were at their heels.

 

The next, they were at the exit, Ellie fumbling to get the door open, the lock stuck or something - who knew what, because Gibbs sure didn't - and Tim was yelling at her to _"hurry the fuck up!"_

 

But then the rogue Army droids - programming hacked or some bullshit, Gibbs didn't care, hell, they were drones really, sentient, but lacking that spark of intelligence and creativity that would bring them up to his level - then those rogue Army droids caught up.

 

_When this is all over, I'm gonna start carrying my sniper rifle fucking everywhere!_

 

But there was barely time to think more than that. Let alone react. Gibbs looked to Tony, and Tony looked back. They were of the same mind - _protect, protect, protect! -_ and as the Army droids at the end of the hall slowly raised their automatic machine guns, Gibbs pushed past Ellie and Tim and kicked open the exit door, dodging out of the way as Tony shoved their team-mates through. Together Gibbs and Tony slammed the door shut after them, paying no heed to their protests. In the half second they had left, Tony dropped to the ground, curling up into the smallest human ball possible.

 

 _He'd have made a good marine_ , thought Gibbs as he wrapped himself around Tony just in time to take the first bullet. And every bullet that came after. Tony gritted his teeth and forced himself to hold still in Gibbs's arms, Gibbs between him and death, but there was nothing else Tony could do to protect either of them.

 

"SWAT back-up better get here fast!" shouted Tony over the thundering gunfire.

 

Gibbs grunted his agreement. He didn't feel much like talking as his back was hammered and shredded with bullets.

 

All at once, the bullets stopped pulverizing his back.

 

Silence pervaded the hallway.

 

He hesitated, but he needed information. Gibbs risked a glance over his shoulder. "Oh great," he said in calm disbelief. "They've brought a grenade launcher."

 

"They _what?"_ Tony shuddered in his arms. Gibbs tightened his grip, he wasn't going to lose Tony out of stupidity, and he tucked his face into Tony's soft hair. He was made to be a devoted husband, but the Marine Corps had turned him into a shield and given him a knight's strength and code of honour. He knew he could take this, but just in case...

 

"Love you, Anthony," he whispered, feeling, believing, _knowing_ it absolutely.

 

But then Tony was screaming, _"Grenade launchers are fucking cheating, you jackasses!"_

 

And everything went black.

 

 

 

Gibbs slowly drifted into wakefulness, wanting to stay in his dreams. His mouth tasted gross, his left leg was numb, and he was laid uncomfortably on his back on a charging cord that was twisted underneath his body. It was wrapped around to plug into his belly-socket - what he had in place of a belly button. Still, though the cord was a little uncomfortable beneath him, it was good to feel that power steadily pulsing into him, firing him up. His dick certainly took notice of the feeling, but then it always did. Involuntarily, he let out a low moan.

 

"Oh good, you're alive," rumbled a warm and teasing voice. Familiar. _Tony_.

 

Gibbs opened his eyes, blinking and dismissing all thoughts of taking his dick in hand, and turned his head to look over at Tony. Tony was smiling at him, alive and well and strong. He was slouched in a chair beside Gibbs's bed. He'd lost his clothes somewhere, his broad shoulders, muscled arms and vulnerable belly on full display. He was only wearing some black cotton boxers, with his muscled legs slung up on Gibbs's bed, one leg with tan skin that matched the rest of him and his other leg was a new, dark and shiny, metallic blue. Gibbs remembered that his old one had been ice blue in colour. Tony's feet were a comforting press against the blankets over Gibbs's thigh.

 

"Don't try to sit up," cautioned Tony. "Your skin is brand new and is gonna feel really sensitive against these rough sheets."

 

Tony was right; he could already feel a slight discomfort without even moving. "How long have I been out?" asked Gibbs curiously. "What happened?"

 

"It's still Friday, it's been about seven and a half hours since you got hit with the grenade. It's almost nine o'clock at night, and you're at Bethesda Naval Hospital, robotics recovery section, in a private room." Tony sat up, feet shifting to rest on the ground. He leaned forward, clasping Gibbs's shoulder. His hand was large and warm and reassuring. "Thank you for covering me from that grenade, by the way. I wouldn't have lived without you."

 

Gibbs frowned, a grenade? Surely not. But then, the memory flashed into his mind _. Grenade launchers are fucking cheating, you jackasses!_ Gibbs grinned crookedly; Tony was always defiant in the face of defeat. He saved it to his favourites’ folder of long term memories.

 

Abruptly, the day's worth of memories cascaded through his mind, until the last one before Tony's scream hit him: _Love you, Anthony._ Gibbs flinched, darting a nervous look at Tony.

 

"Yeah," said Tony, understanding the look. "About that." But he was still gently smiling at Gibbs. Happily, even.

 

Gibbs quirked an eyebrow, and relaxed a little, contentedness bubbling up inside him. Tony didn't look upset in the slightest. "Yeah?" ventured Gibbs.

 

"I don't know what it's like to fall in love," said Tony, biting his lip.

 

Gibbs felt his little bubbles of contentedness pop like they'd been stabbed. "It's okay, Tony, I don't expect-"

 

"No, shut up Gibbs," said Tony, exasperatedly. He moved his hand from Gibbs's shoulder to Gibbs's hand and intertwined their fingers together. "Look, I'm trying to tell you, that just because I don't know how to do the whole committed romantic relationship thing very well, doesn't mean I'm not willing to give it my best shot, if that best shot is with you, okay?"

 

Tony sighed, rubbing at his face with his free hand. "I like you. A lot," he said earnestly. "If deepening our relationship - adding another dimension or two - whatever you want to call it. That's something that I want. If it's also something you want, given that I'm not in the same headspace as you?" He stared at Gibbs.

 

Gibbs stared back, mouth falling open.  _I could get lost in drinking in the light in those bright green eyes._

 

A moment later, Tony started looking unsure, pulling his hand away. Gibbs snatched it back. "Yes! Yes, I want that with you." He firmly gripped Tony's hand in his, pulling it close to his chest. "I'll be happy with as much or as little as you're able and willing to give."

 

Tony chuckled, insecurity falling aside. "Well, okay then."

 

Gibbs relaxed back into his pillow, suddenly emotionally drained and wanting to go home. "So, how long am I stuck in here?"

 

"You haven't noticed yet, have you?" said Tony, amused, but with an undertone of concern.

 

Gibbs stilled, trying to figure out whatever it was he'd missed. "Nope, I got nothing. What haven't I noticed?"

 

"You're missing half your left leg from the knee down."

 

"Oh." _Oh. So, that's why it feels numb. There's nothing to feel._ With the blankets as they were, he couldn't tell just from using regular vision. With a thought, Gibbs switched on his heat vision, and sure enough, below his left knee, there was nothing. "Fuck."

 

"Yeah, the grenade blew it clean off," explained Tony, worried eyes on Gibbs, monitoring his reaction. "The robotics surgeons had to spend a couple hours fixing up your joint, but it's gonna be a few days before they can get you another leg. We match, for now. Apparently there's a fault in all the left legs of the Gibbs Marine model. Vance is raising hell about it. You should have come away from that explosion only needing a new layer of exterior metal muscles and a new layer of flesh and skin on top of that."

 

 _God damn it._ He switched to regular vision, disliking the negative space he could see with heat vision.

 

"But wait, how did we escape the rogue Army droids?" said Gibbs, confused. Had back up arrived?

 

Tony shrugged. "I took them out," he said, aiming for casual, but not able to keep the delighted amazement out of his voice.

 

Gibbs stared at him. _"How?"_

 

Tony shrugged again. "Apparently they weren't expecting me to go crazy and charge at them with nothing but my knife." He smirked proudly, "Unpredictability, determination, and innovation for the win. You saved me, then I saved you."

 

Friday was insane, and Anthony DiNozzo Junior was apparently as bat-shit crazy as he was badass, but Gibbs got to spend the evening holding his hand, so he called it a win.

 

 

**Author's Note:**

> So, my inner 'Hannibal' fan is probably showing with Wednesday, but beyond that, this work was heavily inspired by the movie 'Ex Machina', and the TV series 'Almost Human', and my own hope for a better future. The kind of robot that Gibbs is, is probably a mix between the two. In terms of technological material and design, I'm picturing his brain as being like Ava's, and his body closer to Dorian's, but slightly more advanced, maybe, and with other differences. And yes, of course, Tony's right leg being robotic is homage to John Kennex. I thought it was a perfect translation for Tony to have it, what with having broken his leg in college in canon.
> 
> I've done my best to be respectful with giving Tony what most people would probably call a disability, but if you think there's something I need to change, please feel free to talk it over with me in the comments.
> 
> I've got a whole lot of backstory that didn't make it into this fic. I seriously considered writing up Saturday and Sunday, but I really like where the ending currently is. So, if you have any other curiosities, feel free to ask. And I'm always looking to improve, so if you've got any pointers, please let me know, thanks!
> 
> If you've made it this far, thank you very, very much for reading. I hope you enjoyed reading it, as much as I enjoyed writing it.
> 
> Cheers,  
> Edmond.


End file.
